


Polaroid

by CatAvalon (CazinaIna)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 11:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11183877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CazinaIna/pseuds/CatAvalon
Summary: That’s what he had now. Eternal proof caught on instant film of Yuri’s barely hidden smile, the tiny bruises scattered across his own jugular a constellation leading down to his heart. A glimpse into a moment he could never have again.





	Polaroid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ded_i_am_just_ded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ded_i_am_just_ded/gifts), [Mylifeisaverage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mylifeisaverage/gifts).



> Please keep the tags in mind when proceeding to read this drabble.

The photo album lies open on the glass coffee table. There’s a chip in the surface, a battle wound from a TV remote thrown in a fit of rage. Otabek traces his finger over it now, feeling the dip, the sharp crest that makes it look like a lopsided heart, over and over and over until blood smears across it like some morbid piece of demonstration art. Mesmerised, he holds his hand before him, watches a lazy droplet roll across his palm, the delicate skin of his wrist. It should hurt. _Why doesn’t it hurt?_

Only when the blood dries does he turn his attention back to the pictures before him. A random page is open, illuminated by the late afternoon sun sneaking through the gaps in the blinds. There’s only one image here- a polaroid. Yuri had gotten one of those Fujifilm cameras from Mila for his birthday and had spent the day taken creepshots of Otabek: brushing his teeth naked in the mirror, doing situps on Yuri’s tacky leopard print yoga mat, panting underneath him as they had made love. Otabek hadn’t been impressed with _that_ picture, yet he had still smiled every time he saw it, tacked up on the inside of their wardrobe door.

The polaroid here was taken in the afterglow, Yuri curled into his chest with his hair sweaty and tangled across his shoulders. Both of his hands cupped Otabek’s jaw, silver nail polish shining like a thousand stars on the tips of his fingers.

 _You’re so clingy_ , Otabek had mused, pressing kisses to his forehead, the paper thin skin of his eyelids, nipping the sharp point of Yuri’s nose until he had squirmed with laughter, burying smiles into the crook of Otabek’s neck.   _I love it. I love you._

 _You’re such a fucking sap_ , Yuri retorted as he always did, and Otabek had felt the eye roll thrumming through his skin even though he hadn’t seen it. It was quiet for a moment, calm, nothing but their shared breathing and beating hearts, the rustle of silk sheets as Yuri shifted closer, _closer_ , until his warm breath ghosted a kiss to the shell of his ear.

 _I love you, Beka,_ he whispered, as if it were a secret meant to be trapped between the millimetres between them. Then those three words were repeated again, each syllable marked with the briefest of kisses inching closer and closer to the sweet spot under his jaw.

Otabek’s eyes rolled as teeth had grazed and a tongue had soothed, landing on the camera staring at him from the bedside table. And he hadn’t been able to resist, reaching to get it as Yuri abused and abated, aiming the lens at his collar where soft, wet lips had ventured.  

 _What are you-no! No, Beka, stop-_ The flash captured them as Yuri tried to claw at Beka’s jaw, hiding his flushed face in his elbow as Otabek could only smile down upon him. _I’m gonna look like a hot mess, Beka, Jesus Christ._

 _I don’t care,_ he hummed, fanning the polaroid as they had waited for it to develop.

That’s what he had now. Eternal proof caught on instant film of Yuri’s barely hidden smile, the tiny bruises scattered across his own jugular a constellation leading down to his heart. A glimpse into a moment he could never have again.

 _This should hurt,_ he thinks again as he slips the picture out of the plastic, a tacky red fingerprint stark against the white background. _This should hurt._

 _It hurts,_ Yuri had moaned, cradled in the circle of Otabek’s arms. Three months earlier, he had promised to move mountains, fight away fears, with the same hands that hold Yuri to his chest, life seeping out from the wound on his head and staining the silver band on Otabek’s ring finger pink. _Beka, it hurts._

 _Why doesn’t it hurt?_ He’s in their bedroom now, staring at an unmade bed where gold hair still clings to the pillow. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can pretend Yuri’s there with him. His scent still lingers, soft vanilla and honey, ruined by the _lynx_ deodorant he always stole from Otabek’s side of the room. The bed sinks beneath his weight, and he’s swallowed by it, the spirit of them, together, the hours they had spent simply indulging in each other’s sighs of pleasure, Yuri’s moans, his own grunts muffled into porcelain skin. It mocks him, a poltergeist haunting his mind until he can’t take it anymore. _Make it stop._

 _Beka, make it stop_. Tears had clung to fair eyelashes, had dripped onto paling cheeks.

 _It’ll be over soon_ , he had promised.

And it had, before the cries of sirens pierced the air, his own sobs being pressed into cooling skin.

 _It’ll be over soon_ , he thinks again now, lying on the bathroom floor. A few pills had escaped into a halo around his head. _I want it to hurt_. But it never does. Instead, the numbness transcends into something he can almost call peace.

When he closes his eyes for the final time, he can almost feel soft hair brushing the apex of his cheekbones, that same ghost of a kiss against his ear. _Till death do us part, right Beka?_

**Author's Note:**

> I've always said I had a thing for angst.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Come yell at me on tumblr: zeldaismyhomegirl ^.^](http://zeldaismyhomegirl.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
